


Secrets of the Past Hold the Key to the Future

by screwthestereotypes (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bullying, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M, Misplaced Aggression, Multi, Protectiveness, hidden past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/screwthestereotypes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Destiel high school AU. Castiel is starting his junior year at Singer High, and he gets along with some people better than others. Along the way, he discovers his bully's motives, and his opinion of him turns around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lockers, Friends, and Emerald Eyes

The hallway was loud and busy, people crowded at their lockers, pushing others out of the way. For a moment I wondered why no one bothered to stop them from shoving each other, but it slipped my mind as soon as I thought it. I shook my head softly and looked at the locker numbers. 492... 494... 496... "It should be right up here," I mumbled to myself, continuing to walk. 514... ah, 516! I walked over to the locker and looked at my hand, where the combination was written. I turned the dial to each of he numbers and opened the locker. It was empty inside, save a little hook on one side. I pulled my backpack off my shoulder and unzipped it, taking my binders out one by one and placing them in the locker.

"Hey Winchester!" Someone yelled, walking up to the guy beside me.

"Tony! My man!" He greeted, pulling the guy into one of those stereotypical handshake-hug-things that every jock ever does in movies. I shook my head, turning back to finish putting my things in my locker. I hung my backpack on the aformentioned hook before slipping a picture out of my pocket and sticking in on the inside of the door with a magnet. It was just a worn, tattered, pocket-sized picture of some woman with blue eyes and brown hair to anyone else. To me, it was the most important things I owned. It was a picture of my mother, that I had carried with me every day since she died. She died at the beginning of the summer, but I'm not getting into that right now. I stared at the picture for a minute, remembering her, feeling tears prick at my eyes.

The first bell rang, signaling five minutes until the first class. I dug my schedule out of my pocket, trying to see who I had for homeroom. Ms. Garret, language arts, room 221. Well, I had no idea where that was. I pulled out my language arts binder, a notebook, a few pencils, and a pen. I noticed that the guy with the locker beside me was still there. "Hey, uh, do you know where room 221 is? Ms. Garret?" He turned to me, and the first thing I noticed was that he had the greenest eyes I had ever seen.

"Well I hope I do, considering that she's my homeroom." It seemed like a nice thing to say, except the words were dripping sarcastic poison. "Is there a reason you can't just read the fucking room numbers?" I didn't know what to say to that.

"Uh... okay sorry I asked, I'll just... find my way." I left before he could say anything else, meandering down the hallway in search for room 221. I found the room pretty quickly, considering I had never been here before. Ah yes, starting junior year in a new school is always fun. Well, at least I'm starting at the beginning of the year, rather than mid-semester. I slipped into the classroom and sat somewhere in the middle. A few people were already here. I watched people come through the door and take their seats. One girl came over and sat in the desk beside me. She had blonde hair with blueish streaks in it and caramelly brown eyes.

"Hi!" She exclaimed, extending her hand to me. I smiled slightly, shaking her hand.

"Uh, hey?" She giggled.

"Sorry I know I'm weird but I like people! I haven't seen you before, you're new aren't you?" She didn't give me time to answer. "Are you gay?"

"How did you know that?" I asked. She smiled.

"I have really good gay-dar, I'm gay too, ya know?"

"Oh, okay," I said with a chuckle. "I'm Castiel, you can call me Cas."

"Oh cool name dude! I'm Morgan," she informed me. "Have you met anyone else yet?" Morgan asked me.

"Not really, no. New school, you know? I moved here from New Jersey, Camden, specifically."

"Whoa dude I would say you're not in Kansas anymore- The Wizard of Oz is my favorite book- but you... are in Kansas... so..." I laughed warmly at her. "But that's really cool my aunt and uncle and seven of my cousins live in New Jersey!"

"Seven cousins? Wow."

"Oh I have nineteen total. My mom had three sisters and two brothers and my dad had one brother. I also have five sisters and two brothers. Why do you think I'm so loud?" Morgan asked with a giggle.

"Christ, that makes me glad to be an only child."

"Aw you're so lucky."

"Ha ha it's not so bad, a little bit lonely sometimes. It'd be nice if I had someone to talk to."

"You have me!" I smiled at her kindness.

"You're really sweet," I told her.

"Awh thanks! You're not so bad yourself punk," Morgan said, punching my shoulder lightly. "Do you have a phone?" She asked. I took my old-looking cellphone out of my pocket. Morgan swiftly grabbed it from me and turned it over and over, studying it as if it was something she had never seen before. "Oh my god it's so old! Did they dig this up with a dinosaur fossil or something?" I laughed.

"Nah, it was my mom's."

"Oh, she got a new one and gave it to you?"

"...Something like that," I replied. Morgan nodded slowly. "Besides, I don't need some expensive iPhone or whatever, this thing doesn't break when I tap the screen to hard." Morgan cackled.

"I hate Apple products. I have a slider phone, but it just came out a couple years ago." She fished her phone out of the pocket of her black skinnies and tossed it on my desk. "Put in your number, I'll put in mine?" Morgan asked, and I gave her an approving smile.

"Sure," I told her with a chuckle, finding her phone's contact list and adding my number. I handed her phone back to her and she gave me mine a second later. As I was slipping my phone back into my pocket, I looked up to see the guy from locker 518 with the green eyes walk in. He was followed by Tony and some other guy. What's-his-name slid into the seat behind me, Tony to the left of him, behind Morgan, and background-what's-his-name to the right.  It was pretty obvious that Tony and the other guy were his goonies. Really just mindless followers... kinda like the Nazis. Hey, would that make Green Eyes Hitler?

Speak of the devil, at that moment Green Eyes decided to flick me in the back of the head. "See you found the room easy enough, guess you're not completely mentally retarded." I rolled my eyes, and Morgan turned to glare at him.

"Shut up Dean, I ate a sandwich yesterday that was smarter than you." Oh, so that's his name.

"Yikes! Was it a cunt sandwich, or the regular kind with bread?"

"Ew, you perverted dick. I'm very much a virgin, thank you very much."

"Better not start lustin' after this one kiddo, she's into chicks," Dean said, apparently to me.

"Yeah I know, but I'm not."

"Not what? Into chicks?" I turned around and gave him a look that hopefully said 'what else would I mean?' "Oh man, that's perfect. You hear that boys, two gays in the same class. This is gonna be a good year." Dean exchanged fist-bumps with his followers.

"Ugh," I said, letting my forehead hit the desk. Morgan reached over and squeezed my shoulder.

"Don't worry Cas, you get used to them. Eventually the three musketeers of idiocy over here turn into white noise." I lifted my head and looked at her.

"Ugh," I repeated. She chuckled sympathetically, squeezing my shoulder again. Just then, a short, slender woman walked into the room. She looked youngish, early thirties maybe, with wavy dark brown hair held up in a messy bun. She had nerdy classes, the ones with the big frames people just love using to look hipster. She looked friendly enough, like an older sister/fun aunt type. She shut the door behind her and walked to the front of the classroom.

"Hey y'all, I'm Ms. Garret. Don't call me that, call me Elise. Seriously, 'Ms. Garret' makes me feel old. I'm only 29... and 27 months." Okay, defenitely fun. "You should know that if you raise your hand in this class, I'll throw a ping-pong ball at you. If you have question, I want you to jump up out of your seat and spin around. This is not a class for quiet introverts- can anyone tell me what an introvert is?" Some girl with long, black hair raised her hand.

Ms. Garret, er, Elise reached into some bag of stuff and pulled out a ping-pong ball. "Eh! Wrong!" She exclaimed, tossing the ping-pong ball so it hit the girl in the arm. "Anyone else?" Morgan jumped out of her chair and started spinning. "I like you already! Stop spinning and tell me what an introvert is." Morgan stopped and shook her head to clear the dizzyness.

"An introvert is someone who keeps to themselves," she stated.

"Awesome! Since you answered my first question correctly, you can chuck a ping-pong ball at anyone you want!" Elise said, tossing Morgan a ping-pong ball. Morgan caught it, smirked, and turned, throwing the little hollow white ball dead-center at Dean's forehead.

"Hey!" Dean protested, sliding backwards instinctively. Morgan chuckled and caught the ping-pong ball as it bounced it's way toward her desk.

"I loved that! I love you all already. Well, maybe not you, if this cool chick had a reason to toss a ping-pong ball at your head," Elise said, pointing at Dean. I chuckled foundly, already liking this teacher. "Alrighteo! I need your names!" Elise exclaimed. "We're going row to row, when I call on you, tell me your name and your nickname, and then the next person's gotta say everyone before them's nickname, and then their name and nickname, got it?" Everyone nodded slowly. She pointed at the first girl in the row on the far left.

"I'm Ella, my nickname's El." Elise pointed to the girl behind her.

"She's El, my name's Rachel, people call me Rach, bland, I know." Elise pointed to the guy behind Rachel.

"She's El, She's Rach who thinks her nickname is bland, I'm John, and people call me... John." Then it was Tony's turn.

"El, Rach, John, and I'm Tony." After the two more people in that row, there were two in front of me, and then it was my turn.

"Okay uh, El, Rach, John, Tony, Andy, Drew, Jo, Jake, and I'm Castiel, but people call me Cas." Then it was Dean speaking.

"She's El, Rach, John, Tony, Andy, Drew, Jake, little Cassie," he said, ruffling my hair. I pulled away from his hand and glared. "And I'm Dean." I shook my head, hoping he didn't touch my hair again. Soon Morgan was speaking.

"Oh no. Okay, El, Rach, John, Tony, Andy, Drew, Jake, Cas, Dean, Zander, Lily, Rae, Lex, and I'm Morgan."

"El, Rach, James, Tony, Andrew, Andrew number two, blah blah, Cassie-poo, Deano, don't care, still don't care, emo girl, emo guy, lesbian, I'm Vince, whatever," Dean's other follower said. Elise threw a ping-pong ball that bounced off Vince's head.

"Wow rude, no one likes a dick you know," Elise said. "By the way, I think quote, un-quote emos are awesome! Derogatory terms for someones style, however, are not." Rae and Lex both smiled and hi-fived each other. "Lesbians are awesome too! My sister happens to be a lesbian, and she also happens to be my favorite person in the world. Be nice Vince, or next time, it might be a bowling ball instead of a ping-pong ball." Everyone, including Dean and Tony, 'ohh'd' at that, while Vince just grumbled and slid farther down in his seat.

Okay, so this year might not be that bad. Then again, I'm wrong about most things, probably about this too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Garret, AKA Elise, is based off of a teacher I had in sixth grade, Ms. Smith. Of course, Ms. Smith wasn't quite as awesome as Elise, but she was still really cool. Ms. Smith actually did throw ping-pong balls at people when they asked stupid questions.  
> Anyways, first chapter; spent the whole day writing it (it's 4:30 in the morning now oh my). As always, comments and constructive criticism are very welcomed! Thanks<3  
> -SAW-
> 
> PS- Exactly 2013 words, I'm so Illuminati.


	2. Nothing's Fair in High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd get another chapter up tonight!  
> Okay, technically it's early this morning (1:00), but I don't count it as a new day until the sun comes up.
> 
> Anyways, a new chapter is here! Enjoy!

It's lunchtime now, and I've been through two other classes. I met a girl named Vanessa in trig, and it's her first year at this school too. After trig was animal science, and the teacher was some old woman who had taught at the school since it opened. Dean and Morgan were in my animal science class, so I had to deal with him some more. Most of the time it was just him throwing wads of paper at my head and laughing when I got in trouble. After lunch I have art as my first and second semester elective, history, and then writing. "Ugh yum, fettucini alfredo," Morgan said, piling like half the tray of pasta onto her plate.

"Mm, it's actually hot too." I laughed and scooped up a bit more than the average serving as well.

"Nothing could beat my mom's fettucini alfredo though," I told Morgan.

"Oh, I'd like to try that sometime."

"I wish you could, but that woman never told anyone her secret ingredient." Morgan shot me a a confused glance as she added a brownie and a can of Dr. Pepper to her tray. I grabbed the same and we went through the lunch line. Morgan sat at a table in the back, and I slid in beside her. "She died over the summer," I told Morgan. "But, she was the best mom I could ever ask for, everyone goes sometime I guess."

"I'm glad you had her," Morgan said with a small smile. "My mom left for a while when I was little. She came back after a year, told me dad she had just needed space. Everything was fine after that, it wasn't some big thing that turned bigger. Mama and Papa kept having kids and they're still really happy. We moved here a few years ago, so I started Singer High as a Freshie, and just blended with the other kids streamlining from different middle schools. In our old house, I shared a room with two sisters, and the other two shared a room with my little brother, and my older brother was stuck living in the attic. When Mama got pregnant with the twins, we had to move into a bigger house.

"My dad got a better job out here, so we were able to afford a bigger house. Now the twins share a room- they're two and a half, so their room is beside my parents', downstairs. My older brother and my other younger brother share the upstairs room beside my three youngest sisters. Then my oldest sister and I each have our own rooms."

"I know I'm gonna regret asking this, but names and ages?"

"Oh god. Like I said, twins are two and a half, Oli and Josie- short for Oliver and Josaphine. Then the three other youngest sisters art Halle, Mari, and Lex- Marissa and Alexis, but they hate their names. Halle's nine, Mari's ten, and Lex is eleven. My younger brother Danny is fourteen, and then there's me, sixteen. My older sister, Laina, is nineteen, and my older brother, Matt, is too. Laina was born in Febuary and Matt in December." Wow, I'm not sure what I'd do with that many names to remember. "I can see the fear in your eyes," Morgan laughed, and I laughed along.

"You could build a sibling army," I told her, making her laugh again. "So you know how I said I was an only child earlier?"

"Mhm."

"Well that's technically not true, I have an older brother, but I haven't seen him since I was five. I barely remember him at all, but his name's Gabriel." Morgan looked at me strangely.

"Why haven't you seen him in so long?"

"I'll, ah, tell you another time; it's not exactly a conversation piece for a new friend." Morgan nodded and stabbed her fork into her pasta. I shook my head as she stuffed more pasta in her mouth than should've fit. I noticed Vanessa come off the lunch line with a small plate of pasta and a water. I waved her over and she smiled, walking over and sitting across from me. She set down her tray and resorted her black and purple fringe. I nudged Morgan's shoulder, and she looked up, a noodle hanging from her mouth. She noticed Vanessa and slurped the pasta strand into her mouth.

"I like your face," she said. Vanessa blushed, shaking her head slightly, a small smile on her face.

"Well thanks, that makes one of us," Vanessa said, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie. It was black, with the words 'Of Mice and Men' printed on it. In trig, I had asked if it meant the book. She had laughed at me and said it was a band. Morgan pouted at Vanessa's words.

"Don't be insecure, you're beautiful."

"I told her the same thing," I explained.

"Sorry, I just don't agree," Vanessa said. Morgan caught onto the fact that changing the subject would be best.

"I like your hoodie."

"Really?" Vanessa grinned.

"Yeah, I don't listen to that kind of music too much, but I've listened to Of Mice and Men before and I actually really like them."  
  


After lunch, Vanessa and Morgan dragged me off to art. Class after class I sat, figuring out people; teachers, students. I paid attention to each lesson, well as much as I could whenever Dean was in my classes, since he kept bothering me. Okay, and maybe because he looked kinda cute when he was actually trying to work. Ugh, Cas, don't be that guy, I told myself. After Mr. Kerrin, the writing teacher, dismissed the class, I headed to my locker for the final time that day. "No lit homework," I mumbled to myself. "Trig, writing, no history, no art, no animal science." I shoved my two needed binders and three notebooks into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, closing my locker.

As I turned to go find Morgan and Nessa, Dean's voice stopped me. "Hey Cassie," he said. I rolled my eyes and turned around.

"What?"

"Did you find a boyfriend yet?" He asked obnoxiously, making kissy faces.

"Ugh, what are you, nine?"

"Nine inches," he said with a smirk, leaning against the locker. I rolled my eyes again.

"You're such a pig," I told him, walking away. I found Nessa and Morgan. "Homework at my place?" I offered.

"Sounds fun! My place is way too crowded or I'd offer," Morgan informed me.

"Yeah, my parents won't care," Vanessa added.

"Y'all don't mind walking, do you? I just live a block away so I probably won't drive to school unless it's raining."

"I love walking, it's cool with me."

"Same here."

"Well we shall go then." I started walking, and Morgan and Vanessa bounced along beside me.

"Wanna listen to The Black Dahlia Murder?" Vanessa tried.

"Are they gonna scream at me?" I asked, returned by silence.

"Heh... Pierce the Veil?"

"Oh I like them!" Morgan exclaimed. "You're like them too Cas, they don't scream much." I shrugged in agreement.

"Sounds fine to me." Vanessa did a little happy dance and pulled out her iPod.

"Hm....which song? King for a Day, A Match Into Water, Besitos, Bulletproof Love, Caraphernelia, Caraphernelia acoustic, Hold on Till May, or... hm... Kissing in Cars?" Morgan and I stopped and turned to her.

"What?" We asked in unison.

"Heh... Heh... let's go with Hold on Till May." She tapped the screen and then shut off her iPod, slipping it into her pocket. The song was actual really good, and it ended just as we got to my house. I opened the door and stepped in, holding it open for Morgan and Nessa.

"Gran! Pop! We're home!" Gran called from the kitchen.

"I'm in the kitchen Dear, who is we?" I smiled and led the two to the kitchen, pushing open the swinging door. Gran stood up from where she was leaning over the oven. She smiled warmly at me and looked at Vanessa and Morgan for a minute. "Well now Castiel, you didn't tell me you were bringing home supermodels!" Morgan giggled and Vanessa blushed, playing with her sleeves again.

"Gran, this is Morgan, and Vanessa," I told her, gesturing to each as I said their names.

"Lovely names to lovely faces," Gran said with a smile. "Did you meet any cute boys?" She asked me.

"Gran!" I exclaimed, burying my face in my hands. Morgan chuckled and elbowed me lightly in the ribs. I reached out to the side and smacked around trying to find her. "Shh-t-shut up!" I could feel her and Vanessa exchanging smirks.

"Aw you like him!" Nessa exclaimed.

"I do not!" I told her. "Sure okay he's kinda sorta almost cute but he's a jerk! I can't stand guys like that!" Morgan ruffled my hair.

"Now dear, I've always told you to give people the benefit of the doubt," Gran reminded me.

"I know Gran, but he's just rude, I definitely don't like him. I can't stand him, actually."

"Well, he might come around, you have such a positive energy."

"I'm not sure anyone can change Dean Winchester," Morgan said. "He's never been the nicest guy."

"Thanks Gran, Morgan, Nessa, and I were just gonna do some homework and chill for a while."

"That's fine dear, it was very nice meeting you lovely girls, feel free to come around any time you want."

Okay, this year could suck or be great, how am I supposed to know which?


	3. Panic Attacks and Mysteries

"Monday... so much fun," I groaned sarcastically.

"Ah come on, school's not that bad," Morgan replied. "I mean, you have Vanessa and I!"

"School still sucks, and you know it." Morgan opened her mouth to speak, but instead sighed in defeat.

"I know, would you shut up?"

"Probably not any time soon," I replied, nudging her off balance. That earned me a scoff and a playful shove. "But really, no school means no teachers, no homework, no stress, no jerks like Dean and Vince and Tony."

"You know, I don't think Dean's as much of a dick as he lets on."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I think he's just covering something. Acting like a douche canoe to mask who he really is."

"Maybe. Or maybe he's just a douche canoe."

"That is also an option."

"So, did you get the science homework done?" I changed the subject as we entered the crowded hallways, heading for Morgan's locker.

"Yeah, I'll meet you at your locker when I'm done at mine, we'll go to homeroom together."

"Alright," I agreed, continuing down the hall to my locker. There stood Dean right beside it, as expected. I inwardly groaned as I turned the lock and popped it open. "Hey there Cassie! Did you have a fun weekend?" Dean asked, voice dripping sarcasm like the venom of a snake.

"Whatever," I replied, grabbing my language arts stuff. My eyes caught on the worn photo of a brunette woman and my eyes started to sting.  
  


_"Cas? Honey what on Earth are you doing?" Mom had asked one day after work, when I was eight._

_"Making dinner."_

_"For who?"_

_"Us."_

_"Why honey? I can make dinner, you don't have to do that."_

_"You make dinner every night. And breakfast in the morning and lunch at lunchtime. You need a break, just relax a little while."_

_"I love you Cas, you're my favorite little boy in the world," she had told me, kissing the top of my head as I stirred the mac and cheese._

_"I love you too Mama."_

  
"What's that picture, Cassie?" Dean asked mockingly.

"Nothing, don't touch it."  
  


_"Where are we going, Mom?" I had asked, age fourteen._

_"You'll see," she had replied with a smile. I had shook my head, rolled my eyes with a smile. We drove for about ten more minutes until we had come to an old record shop._

_"No way!"_

_"Yes way! Get your butt inside and find some of your favorite bands."_

_"You're kidding, right?"_

_"Nah, you've been working extra hard this year, especially moving houses because of the new job. You deserve 'em. Now come on, let's go check it out!"_   
  


"Who's that in the picture Cassie?"

"No one."  
  


_"Mom! Come in here a minute!" I had shouted, waited a minute before she appeared in the doorway._

_"What's up Cas?" She had asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "What's this?" She'd questioned, looked around the room. I had grinned at her._

_"Happy birthday Mom," I had told her with a huge smile._

_"You made a cake?"_

_"Chocolate and buttercream, your favorite." She had smiled, tears welling up in her eyes as she wrapped me up in a hug._

_"I love you Cas, you're my favorite little boy in the world."_

_"I love you too Ma," I had replied, before pulling away and cutting her a slice of cake._   
  


"Lemme see," Dean said, reaching for the picture.

"No!" I exclaimed, slamming the locker so he couldn't touch the picture. I felt my heart pounding and tears filling my eyes, my vision going black at the edges and suddenly my legs were numb. My fingers were numb. Everything was numb and shakey. I pushed my way through people quickly, my fingers grazing the wall as my eyes became somewhat useless. Suddenly a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me slightly back to reality.

"Cas? Are you okay?" Morgan asked; I managed a sane-sounding 'I'm fine' in response. I tore out of her grip and finally found the bathroom, locking myself in a stall and collapsing to the floor as sobs escaped my throat. I hadn't had a panic attack in just over a year. I forced the images of the accident out of my mind, choking back the sickness I felt all over. My body was still numb. I leaned my head against the door and let tears pour down my cheeks. Eventually, the tears stopped and I composed myself enough to sit on the toilet lid rather than the floor. I just sat there numbly, rather than making an effort to leave.

I wasn't quite sure how long I sat there, numb, but I knew homeroom was well over. Suddenly, I heard the bathroom door open and someone lock themself in a stall. Was that.. was someone crying? Someone was crying, but who? Who and why? Well, it sure was someone and something, because they were still crying ten minutes later when I slithered out of the bathroom.

I don't know who was crying in the bathroom, but I know that when I got back to class, Dean wasn't there. I also know that when Dean got back to class, his eyes were puffy and red and his hands were shoved in his pockets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I UPDATED.  
> I'm so sorry words can not describe. I know this is a really short chapter, but I couldn't leave you with nothing anymore. What I'm gonna do from now on, is update this story every Tuesday and Saturday, and my other story (The End) every Thursday and Sunday. That way, you know when there will be a new chapter and I'll be able to keep better responsibility. Anyways, cliffhangers suck, don't they? Hehe, see you on Saturday<3


	4. Dissections and Fallouts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah hi I updated

"Alright class, you may go. Leave your summaries by the door and throw out your gloves on your way out," Mrs. Filch said, smiling broadly. I grimaced and pulled off my gloves, hoisting my notebooks and binder into my arms and holding the gloves by the ends. I threw them away and set the paper with my dissection summary on the counter.

"Ew oh my god," I shivered. "That was _horrible_."

"Cas, your gay is showing," Morgan teased.

"Shut up shut up shut up, that was horrible," I repeated. Vanessa grinned dreamily, fluffing her now black and blue hair.

"I thought it was fun."

"Dissecting owls is your idea of _fun_?" I said, my voice hightening an octave with disbelief.

"Yeah, owls are so... I don't know, pretty, it's cool to get a look at the inside." I made over-exaggerated gagging noises. "Oh hush, I like dead things, let's go to lunch."

"Yeah because I have such an appetite after that."

"After what?" Dean asked, popping up out of nowhere and sliding an arm around my shoulder. I ducked and slithered away, hiding behind Nessa (definitely not to hide a blush covering my cheeks).

"Don't touch me," I said, looking at Dean probably with more hatred then I did the owl's guts.

"Someone's feisty today."

"We're not friends Dean, go away," Vanessa hissed.

"Don't tell me what to do, Ana." Morgan and I gave him a confused sort of look, but Vanessa's eyes widened. Dean smirked evilly. "That's right, I know your secret," he grinned, licking his lips like a lion hunting it's prey. Vanessa shook her head violently.

"No. No, no no, no no no no no _no_ , no you don't."

"Yeah, I do," he said innocently, nodding slowly.

"No..."

"Yeah."

"No, no secret, no."

"Yea-"

"No!" Vanessa shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the hallway.

"Looks like you've got an audience, should I tell them all your secret?"

"No!" She screamed again, shoving Dean hard; hard enough that he fell to the ground with shock in his eyes. Some girl squealed, and Vanessa just shook her head and pulled her sleeves farther down over her hands. "Come on," she whispered, grabbing one of my hands and one of Morgan's. She lead us to the lunch room and we went through the line. Vanessa only got a water.

"Why didn't you get food?" Morgan asked her when we sat down.

"I had a huge breakfast, and I snuck food into homeroom. I'm not hungry."

"Oh," Morgan said, giggling. "Mrs. Monroe didn't catch you with food?" Vanessa cracked a smile and shook her head, some of her fringe falling into her eyes. I laughed along with them, wondering if that was true.

 

"Alright class, today, we're starting on our poetry unit," Mr. Kerrin announced, met with some groans, a couple excited 'woo's and the squeak of someone's desk. "Aw, come on! Poetry is fun!"

"I have a poem!" Dean announced, jumping from his seat.

"Proceed, Winchester," said Mr. Kerrin. Dean jumped onto his desk and grinned at everyone. Mr. Kerrin rolled his eyes. _I second that gesture, Teach_ , I thought.

"Roses are red, some people hate gays, Cassie doesn't care, he likes guys anyway!" Dean bowed dramatically to the murmuring class. The cramped classroom was filled with whispers. 'The new kid is gay?' 'Poor kid, he's gonna get ruined' 'The whole school will know!' 'Tell everyone' 'Ew, fags are gross'. Aside from not caring that people know I'm gay, the idea of being bullied all over again tore me apart. 

"Fag!" Someone shouted. My eyes filled with tears, despite not being affected by the comment.

"You're a fucking asshole, Dean," Morgan spat at him, glaring daggars his way.

"Alright Winchester, you're a joker just like your father, we get it, now get out of my class."

"What?"

"You heard me, get your ass off the desk and keep going until you're on the other side of the door." Dean jumped off the desk and stood there with a blank stare. " _Now_." Dean finally glared, swiped up his books and sulked out of the room.

"You don't know shit about my father," he mumbled before closing the door behind him. Morgan and I exchanged a glance.

 

Dean wasn't at school the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. Extreme writer's block + extreme depression = not writing. I'm sorry, I'm gonna try to get back on track with this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is majorly triggering. Description of self-harm and allusions to past/future suicide.

As a matter of fact, he wasn't there the rest of the week. The next Monday, Dean came in with a fading black eye and a long-sleeved jumper. The sleeves were pulled over his hands and for once, he was quiet. He looked scared, almost child-like, vulnerable. Until he saw me, that is. I tried to grab my books and get to class before he got to me, but no sooner had I closed the locker than I was slammed into it. Almost everyone else was already in class, and the strays around the hallway didn't notice or didn't care. Dean smirked evilly when he caught my eye, and pushed me into the locker where my lock was digging into my back; it hurt.

He didn't care.

He leaned in closely, and for half a second, my brain considered him kissing me as an option. I almost laughed out loud. Despite the fact that Dean looked like he hadn't slept all weekend, he smelled nice, as always. Some kind of after shave that's practically intoxicating. Chloroform? I wouldn't be surprised. "Miss me, Cassie?" He sneered.

Ha. "You wish."

"Didn't you worry?" He asked, mock-hurt.

My eyes narrowed, and I stared into his soul through his left eye. "Not the slightest bit," I spat out, shoving him away. "I never did anything to you, I'm not your fucking punching bag. Leave off," I growled, heading to class. Yeah, of course he wouldn't let that happen. He grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around violently. I was still gripping my books, but they fell all over the ground when Dean's fist met my jaw. I was shocked; he even looked surprised at himself.

"I-"

"What the fuck did I ever do to you? Ask you where a class is? Breathe too close? You're a fucking asshole, a complete dickbag, and I'd love to sit back and watch you rot in hell." He was quiet, just staring blankly. "You're all the same, you fucking jocks. You abuse other people for fun, for no reason. You don't fucking understand the pain you put people through.

"Come on, the teasing bothered me enough, but then you're telling the whole fucking school I'm gay, and punching me in the face? That's insanely low, even for you. Give me the number of who ever gave you the shiner, will you? I'd like to personally thank them." As soon as I finished my tirade, I turned and walked to class. The blood pumping in my ears was so loud I almost missed Dean mumble 'I understand more than you think'.

He never showed up to homeroom.  
  
  
We had a substitute in trig, and he literally knew nothing. We sat around all of class doing whatever we wanted. Vanessa and I sat talking about Dean and how he punched me. Long story short, she was pissed. I understood why, if someone hurt her and Morgan they wouldn't see the light of day again. Okay, so I'm overly protective of my friends. What do you expect? I can't lose any other friends.  
  
  
Dean came in late to Animal Science. His hood was up and he sat silently, staring at the table all of class. We got our reports back, and I got a 98%. I couldn't help but wonder why Dean missed two classes and then showed up late. Maybe he was beating someone else up. Nah, I think the beatings are special, just for me. Hey look, I'm special! I get abuse and no one else does, wow I'm so popular! Popularly hated. _Wow Mom, if you could see me now... Everyone knows who I am! They all hate me too, woo!_ I thought bitterly.  
The walk home was bitter and cold, as it got cold a lot sooner in Kansas. Tomorrow was October first, and that meant 31 days until my favorite day of the year. Also, 32 days until my least favorite day of the year. _Why me?_ I wondered. I got home, and went straight upstairs to my room. I locked the door behind me and walked over to my sidetable. I lifted my lamp and reached for what had been under it. _Ah, dear sharp silver friend, how I've missed your cold caress._

I rolled down my sleeve and dragged the piece of metal sharply across my wrist. It had been too long, almost a year. No, wait, exactly a year.  
  
  
 _"Cas! Why would you do this to yourself!?" Daniel had asked, tears visible in his eyes. "Why didn't you talk to me?"_

_"I've been doing it since before I knew you, I'm sorry," I had whispered back, staring at the floor._

_"Look at me baby," he had whispered back. I slowly lifted my head, and my eyes met his. "You're too good for this Castiel, you're so much better than the blade."_

_"No I'm not."_

_"Yes, you are. You deserve so much more than I piece of metal you can buy at any little corner shop. You deserve all the money in the world, and all the happiness that has ever been felt by anyone. You deserve the world love, never think otherwise."_

_"I'm worthless."_

_"No, you're priceless." He had kissed me very softly, and then hugged me tight. He had hugged me for a good fifteen minutes, whispering to me everything he had never gotten a chance to say, and repeating many things he had told me before. For the first time in my life, I had felt like I mattered to someone; like I was a person deserving of life. Finally, with a whisper of 'I love you', he pulled away and looked me in the eyes, his chocolate brown ringed in green seeing right through me. "Promise me, you'll never do it again. I couldn't live with myself if you did."_

_I had hesitated. "I promise... I love you."_

_"I love you too, forever and always."_

_"Always and forever," I had replied softly, smiling slightly. After that, he kissed every single one of my scars._ Forever ended so abruptly that I was still recovering to this day. He killed himself on November first, thirty-two days after he made me promise. And I had kept that promise, until now. Something inside me broke, like the pebble that makes the dam collapse, the straw that breaks the horse's back. Tears flooded faster than Niagara Falls, and I couldn't stop them. I sobbed, outright bawled.  
I added fifteen cuts, deeper than ever, and the blood poured as steadily as my tears. I added sixteen on the other arm too, just as deep. They signified the thirty-two days. My sheets were badly stained with blood, but it wasn't the first time. Eventually, my tears subsided and the bleeding did too. I didn't trust myself alone. Shakily, I lifted my phone. I dialled Morgan's number and hit send. She answered after two rings. "Hello?" She answered, cheery as always.

"M-Morgan, it's Cas. Ca-n I come ov-over?"

"Cas? Honey what's wrong?"

"I'll- I'll explain w-when I get there."

"Of course you can come over sweetheart, do you want me to pick you up?"

"I d-don't trust mys-self driving ri-right now..."

"I'll be there in ten minutes honey, it's okay."

"O-okay bye..."  
  
  
Eleven minutes later Morgan and I were in her dark blue pick-up truck, cruising down the road. I was staring at my lap the whole time and shaking. She looked over sympathetically and reached over, slipping her hand into mine. She was a good driver, and I trusted her to drive with one hand, but it still scared me. "You alright honey?" She squeezed my hand.

"N-no, not reall- Not at all..." I whispered.

"Shh, we're almost there, we'll talk about it," she sympathetically half-smiled. I had never seen her this calm and quiet. Once we got to her house, I got nervous. There would be a bunch of people. "Don't worry, everyone's in the family room, the stairs are in the front hall. We'll go straight to my room and talk for a while then you can meet my family." I nodded. We hopped out of the truck and, like Morgan said, went straight to her room. The first thing I noticed was that the walls were neon green.

"I'm not surprised by your walls," I told her.

"They match my personality, now come on, sit, sit, tell Uncle Morgan all your problems."

"You're a girl, you can't be an uncle," I replied, sitting beside her on the bed.

"Shhhhh, details details... but seriously, what's wrong?"

"Dean punched me, and I got called a fag like 12 times today and when I got home I just kinda broke and-" I stopped and lifted my sleeves. Morgan gasped.

"Oh my god, bathroom, now," she said, dragging me through a door into a pretty, white bathroom. "Sit," she instructed, pointing to the bath ledge. I sat down. She dampened a cloth and started dabbing my cuts gently, getting rid of the blood, dried and not. She set the cloth in the sink once she finished, and opened the counter under the sink, pulling out a bottle of peroxide. "This will sting I little bit, arm over the tub please." I did as she said, and she pouring peroxide over my cuts; it didn't sting. "Other arm." I did that too, and the process was repeated.

Morgan stood up and set the bottle on the counter. "Hold on, I'm gonna borrow a jumper from Matt so they don't get infected." I nodded. She left the bathroom, coming back a moment later with a blue-black jumper. "Take that off, put this on," she said, handing it to me. I stood up, nodding again, and slipped of my sweatshirt, replacing it with the jumper. "Now what else happened?"

"32 days from now is the anniversary of my boyfriend's suicide. Ex-boyfriend? I don't- I loved him. I still love him."

"Oh Cas, I'm so sorry," she said softly, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Can I stay here tonight? I don't trust myself alone."


	6. Getting By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas runs into Dean outside of school, and he seems different without the audience. Cas is confused, and starts to think maybe Morgan's right about Dean's tough-guy douchebag attitude being an act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm so sorry.  
> I was going through stuff for a while and eventually swore off Ao3 temporarily, but I'm back.  
> I'm so disappointed in myself for abandoning this story for such a long period of time and I don't know how to make it up to you guys but I hope the fact that I've come back makes up for it slightly...  
> I hope you haven't all given up on me completely.

The next morning, I woke up feeling much better, although there was an odd weight on my stomach. It turned out to be Morgan, splayed out over me and snoring. I shook my head and nudged her shoulder. She jumped up, accidentally slapping me in face. "I'm up!"

"Yeah, so am I," I said, rubbing my jaw where her hand had connected with it.

"Oh, Cas, right, hi," Morgan smiled and reached out to shake my hair. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am, actually," I told her honestly, yawning.

"Yay!" She grinned and hugged me tightly. "Do you want breakfast? I want breakfast. School today or no?" Morgan spat out without pausing between questions. I shook my head; only Morgan would be this hyper this early.

"Yeah, breakfast sounds great, and since it's already-" I glanced at the clock "-ten in the morning, I think maybe no school."

"Great! Where do you want to go for breakfast? You can borrow some more of Matt's clothes to wear today."

"It's up to you, and okay cool," I responded. Morgan climbed out of bed and stretched her arms out. She left the room, giving me a chance to wake up fully and look at her room. She had pictures of her with all of her siblings in various frames. Morgan returned a moment later with a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Okay, you can change in here because I don't care, and unless you have boobs, you don't have to worry about me checking you out. If you're uncomfortable, you can change in the bathroom," Morgan informed me, handing me the clothes. I laughed lightly.

"Here's fine, considering I do not have boobs."

 

Fifteen minutes later- Morgan had to do her hair and makeup- we jumped in Morgan's car and headed down the road. "Music?" She questioned, her finger hovering over the radio's **on** button. I shrugged, and she hit the button. Some catchy-sounding pop song that I was unfamiliar with blasted through her speakers. It didn't surprise me in the least that this was the type of music Morgan kept in her car. "We're going to Waffle House, by the way," Morgan informed me, barely two minutes before we pulled into the Waffle House parking lot. I climbed out of Morgan's car and followed her into Waffle House, watching my feet as I walked. "Oh fucking Christ," Morgan muttered under her breath. I looked up to find out why she said that, and my eyes met the ever-familiar green ones belonging to Dean Winchester.

"Oh, hey Cassie!" Dean shouted. I I internally groaned, taking note that Tony and Vince were nowhere on the premises.

"Hello, Dean," I responded, not one bit too cold, considering he had punched me _and_ outed me to the entirety of Singer High. "I thought they didn't allow animals in restaurants."

Dean raised his arms up. "Whoa, I'm not looking for a fight, I just said "hey"."

"Yeah? Well this is me saying "bye"," I retorted, every bit as unfriendly as I could manage.

"Alright, alright, I get it..." Dean muttered, digging a fork into his hashbrowns. Some part of me wondered why he wasn't leaping to throw punches, but the dominant part of me didn't care.

"Do you wanna go somewhere else?" Morgan asked me quietly.

"No, it's fine," I responded, moving to sit at a booth as far away from the counter as possible, considering Dean was sitting in one of the somewhat-swiveling chairs at the counter.

 

Dean was still sitting at the bar when I went to pay. As our waitress ran the ticket, I rested my arms on the counter, wincing slightly. "What was that?" Dean piped up suddenly. I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What was what?"

"You made a face."

"No I didn't," I said nervously.

"Yeah you did, when you put your arms down. Why?"

"Oh, uh, pulled a- a muscle in my elbow, hurts when I stretch it out," I shakily lied, hoping he'd buy it. He stared at me for a while unblinkingly, as if "I'm lying" was written on my forehead in red ink. I felt small under his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact.

"...Okay," he finally said, hardly a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Why aren't you throwing punches at me?" I asked him.

"Here's your card honey, have a nice day," the waitress cut in, handing me my debit card.

"Thanks, you too," I told her. "C'mon, Morgan," I called, and she jumped up and walked over to me, a bit of egg hanging out of her mouth. We walked out of Waffle House before Dean got a chance to respond to me.

"What did Dean say to you?" Morgan asked once we were on the road again.

"He asked why I flinched when I put my arms on the counter. Why isn't he in school?"

"Heck if I know," she replied. "He skips a lot, so I'm not surprised."

"He didn't say anything mean to me," I stated, more to myself than to Morgan.

"Yeah, I noticed that. Weird. I still think he's hiding something, maybe he only acts like such a dick when he has an audience." I shrugged, considering it. He did seem almost... worried when he asked about my arm.

Maybe it is just to save face, to maintain his reputation. Or maybe he just does it to keep people from knowing the real him... It's also a great possibility that he's just a huge asshole and I don't know what I'm talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it's not much, but at least I finally got something down.  
> You guys deserve so much better than this, but it's all I can offer for now.  
> I'm gonna start working on a new chapter right after I post this one, and things are going to really start happening.  
> Once again, I'm so sorry and I love you all xx


End file.
